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Authors: Tracey Bateman

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BOOK: Dangerous Heart
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Mr. Harrison shrugged, oblivious to the reason for Web's sudden respect.

Inwardly, Ginger cringed. Web would easily have spotted the false bottom, but he never would have thought to look for secret compartments. Why did Mr. Harrison have to be such a fool when it came to trusting people? But what more could one expect from a man who took an interest in Amanda Kane, even before she stopped taking laudanum? He trusted, believed in people. The main problem was that the wagon was right here. Mr. Harrison and Web had brought the supplies in it. Poor Mr. Harrison.

“Mr. Harrison,” Ginger said. “I'll do my best to see to it that Amanda and the children will receive their share of the
money.
If
you don't pull through this. Which you won't, if you don't take the soup.”

“I can't.”

“What do you think will happen to Alfie if you die? That poor boy barely understands that he'll never see his ma again. Who will take care of him?”

Tears sprang to Mr. Harrison's eyes and Ginger knew she was getting to him. “And Belinda. What's a thirteen-year-old girl going to do without a ma or pa?”

“Don't you worry none about that,” Web broke in. “I'll take both of them kids. I'll take care of them like they was my own young'uns.”

Ginger noted the alarm in Mr. Harrison's eyes and took the opportunity to try to press her point. “No one can take care of them the way you can, Mr. Harrison. They need you to try.”

The tears glistening in his eyes began to trail down sides of his head and drop onto the blanket. He nodded.

“Web,” Ginger said. “Could you help him up?”

Web scowled and gave a grudging nod. Ginger began spooning the soup into Mr. Harrison's mouth, praying that he'd get better before Web had a chance to clean out that false bottom.

Grant had never felt so weak in his life. He knew there was no point in even trying to stand; he'd only crash to the ground. Even the idea of opening his eyes seemed too much of an effort. He vaguely remembered the retching and other things equally revolting. His stomach no longer roiled and rolled. His heart lifted a little. He would live.

“Doc?”

He recognized Buddy's voice and turned his head toward the sound, debating whether or not he wanted to attempt to open his eyes and face the pain a flash of light would bring.

“How long have I been sick?”

“Two days.” Buddy's voice rose with relief. “Amanda said once you made it past the first twenty-four hours, you'd live.”

“Lucky me.” He truly was grateful, but the pain in his head…

“Doctors always make the worst patients, they say.”

Grant's eyes flew open at the sound of Blake's voice. He groaned as the light rammed into his eyes like heavy fists.

“How are you feeling?” Blake asked.

Grant offered a weak smile. “Sick.”

“Understandable.”

“Why are you watching me sleep?”

“Buddy said you've been stirring for the last hour. I needed to speak with you as soon as possible. I know it's not the best time, but it's necessary.”

“What is it?”

“Sunday a few soldiers arrived from Fort Boise. They heard we had cholera from their Indian scouts and warned us to stay away from the fort.”

“It's a fearsome disease. I can't say I blame them.”

“That may be, but we have to find someplace to hole up for the winter. We need the protection of the fort if we stay in these parts.”

“You've made up your mind, then?”

Blake gave a nod, his lips set in a grim line. “We'll have some trouble out of a few of the men. I'm anticipating that. But it's the smartest thing to do. According to the soldiers, the snow is heavy this year. With four hundred miles to go, it would be folly to even attempt to get over the Blue Mountains.”

“Most of the folks trust you to do what's right. None of the setbacks have been your fault.”

Blake's jaw twitched as he clamped down on his back teeth, something he did when trying to control his emotions. Grant figured he'd best change the subject for now.

“What did you want me to say to the soldiers?”

“You'll need to speak to the captain and let him know there's no danger of cholera anymore. Explain it to him in doctor talk so he knows you're a real doctor.”

Lifting himself, Grant rested on his elbow. His head swam with the sudden movement, and he closed his eyes until the spell passed. “How many new cases have occurred since I took sick?”

“None,” Buddy said. “Everyone's getting better. Kip went fishing with me yesterday.”

Grant smiled at the lad. “Catch anything?”

“Naw. Too cold. But we shot a couple of rabbits on the way back from the river.”

“Well, that's something, isn't it?”

“Yes sir. Mrs. Kane roasted them over the fire. They were right tasty.”

“Glad to hear it.” Now that he looked closer, he could see that Buddy's face, though still thin, no longer had that sunken in appearance. He turned to Blake. “If I've been sick three days and I was the last one to come down with cholera, then it's over.”

“You sure? You thought that before you got sick.”

“I'm sure.”

Relief washed across Blake's face. “As soon as you're strong enough to ride, we need to go to the fort so you can reassure the captain. They want to hear it from the doctor.”

“The word of a wagon master isn't good enough for the captain?”

Blake gave a chuckle. “Maybe he's known too many wagon masters that don't tell the truth.”

Grant felt his strength winding down. He took a deep, shaky breath. “I should be strong enough in a couple of days.”

“That's good. I'll send Two Feathers on to let them know
that we'll be ready to rendezvous in a couple of days and the wagon train can move out again in three days' time.”

“Sounds good.” He closed his eyes and lowered himself back to the pallet. “Ginger and Miss Sadie back yet?”

The hesitation in the tent spoke loudly, and Grant opened his eyes once more, staring at Blake. “Well?”

Blake shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Has anyone gone to check on them?”

A scowl marred Blake's face. “We're trying to recover from this illness. Too many men are just now regaining their strength. I didn't want to risk any kind of relapse.”

“What about Web and Mr. Harrison?”

Blake shook his head.

“Blake, you know what Web is!” Grant felt the panic rising. “We have to go get them. We can't just leave Miss Sadie and Ginger and Mr. Harrison to their mercy.”

“I already promised Fannie and Toni that we'd send a few men after them tomorrow, if they aren't back by then.”

“Good.” With his energy spent, Grant could do little more than utter the word as he closed his eyes. He hated the feeling of helplessness. The weakness. What if Ginger needed him, and he wasn't there to help her? Ginger…now he remembered the little girl who had been there the day his Sarah had died. His muddy memory took him back to that awful day, but his heart only saw a young girl's tears for her brother and he knew he couldn't blame her. Even now, he could only love her.

 

Ginger woke up with a filthy hand clasped over her mouth. “Get up, gal.”

“Web? What are you doing?”

“Time to leave.”

Disappointment squeezed at her. After two days she'd hoped Web had changed his mind. “Listen, Web, you don't have to do this. Don't take Mr. Harrison's money. He trusted you. Do you know what an honor it was for a man like that to trust you with his children's future?”

“Harrison's an idiot. And you know what they say.”

“Yes,” she said dully. “A fool and his money are soon parted.”

“That's right.”

“Mr. Harrison isn't a fool, Web. He's just a good man who never would have guessed that the man he's befriended would rob him. Especially when no one else in the wagon train would give you the time of day once they found out Buddy brought cholera and you're his pa.”

“That was his mistake.”

There was obviously no talking him out of it. “Where are we going?”

“California. Where do you figure?”

Ginger's heart rose with a thought. “Web, why do you need to take Mr. Harrison's money when you have all that man's gold waiting for you?”

“What's wrong with taking both?”

The question almost made her laugh with its utter ridiculousness. What, indeed, could be wrong with taking Mr. Harrison's money and then moving on to that poor man in California—the one that didn't actually exist?

Elijah had left camp the day after telling her about Clem, so once again she was on her own. But she had no intention
of sitting back while Web took Mr. Harrison's money. Nor would she go to California and risk missing out on Clem when he got out of prison.

“I'm not helping you take Mr. Harrison's money.”

“We already got it.” He yanked hard and lifted her to her feet, then he grunted as though the effort caused him pain.

“Web. Don't you want to take it easy? Why live out the rest of your days the same way you always lived?”

“What are you sayin' to me?”

“You can be better than this. You have goodness in you, Web. I know that. I've seen how you've taken care of Yuley all these years. You could make a whole new start. The folks in the wagon train…they don't know any better. They don't know what you've been in the past. You can have a second chance. Just forget about Mr. Harrison's money and join the wagon train. You can live in Oregon with Buddy and Yuley and me.” She stopped herself short of saying, “And Clem.”

“What are you talking about?” Web scowled, staring at her as though she'd suddenly gone soft in the head. “We been plannin' this Harrison robbery for months. Why would we give it up now? There's thousands of dollars in that locked box. Shoot, gal, we can buy us a whole new life with that.”

Her heart nearly stopped. Thousands? She'd never seen more than fifty dollars at one time in her whole life. No wonder Mr. Harrison was so concerned that his children end up with it. He'd pulled through—was getting stronger. He'd most likely be ready to go back to the wagon train today.

Yuley adored him and the feeling seemed to be mutual, as they'd spent the last couple of days reading the Bible and dis
cussing things that confused Yuley—which was practically everything. Ginger couldn't help but suspect Mr. Harrison's attachment to the slow-minded young man had a lot to do with his missing Alfie.

Ginger glanced over at Miss Sadie, sleeping peacefully on the other side of their tent. Why hadn't the old dowager awakened? For a split second, fear gripped her. Surely Web hadn't killed her in her sleep?

Ginger was about to call out when the woman's chest rose and fell in sleep. Relief filled her. She realized how close she'd almost come to causing Miss Sadie's death. If she woke up, Web would have no choice but to silence her. Still, it seemed odd that Miss Sadie could have slept through their conversation.

Perhaps the older woman was just exhausted from the days and days of nursing and cooking. But she'd always been a light sleeper. The slightest noise in the tent next door had pulled her from sleep and sent her rushing over to make sure one of the men didn't need her help. Ginger fought to keep from smiling to herself. Only one explanation made any sense. Miss Sadie was faking it.

Web grabbed her moccasins and held them out to her. “You can put these on after you get outside. Let's go.”

The horses were saddled and ready to go by the time they got outside and Ginger slipped on her calf-high moccasins.

“It's about time,” Lane hissed.

“Shut up, Lane,” Ginger shot back. “Don't wake up Miss Sadie and Mr. Harrison.”

Taking one of the torches that lit the camp, he rode back to Mr. Harrison's wagon and tossed it into the back.

“What do you think you're doing, you big idiot?” Reacting on instinct, Ginger sprinted to the wagon and jumped into the wagon bed. She tossed the torch into the dirt. Then she stamped out the small flames. Thankfully there was minimal damage. She glared toward Web. “Are you going to leave them stranded? Miss Sadie saved the your lives. Is this how you thank her?”

At least Ames and Greely had the good grace to avert their gazes and look ashamed. “Leave it alone,” Ames said. “Ginger's right. We can't leave them without a way to get back to their own camp.”

“But what about Buddy?” Ginger asked.

“You said yourself he wants to go to Oregon. We don't need him for this job. We finish up here, and by this time next year, the two of you should be in Oregon together.”

And Clem. Her heart jumped at the thought of seeing her brother again.

And Yuley. Where was he?

Web seemed to read her mind as her gaze sifted through the riders trying to find him. “He's sleeping in the tent with Charles,” Web said. “Didn't see no need to wake him up when he don't want to ride with us anymore. Get mounted up and let's go.”

Ginger mounted an unfamiliar horse, wishing for her own mare. They rode out of camp, and Ginger's heart sank as reality hit her with as much force as the icy air.

Where had Elijah gone? She'd thought at least she'd have someone to help her. Now she had only two chances to get out of this: her own wits and God. Her own wits had never served her all that well, so she was glad that this time, God was on her side.

Grant wiped the soap from his face and tried to ignore the burning skin from where he'd just shaved off a week's worth of growth. He had not taken time to shave since cholera struck. He and Blake were due to rendezvous with the captain of Fort Boise in a couple of hours. They'd meet at a set point far enough from the fort so that they didn't accidentally infect anyone.

He dumped out his soapy, bristly water just as a wagon rolled into camp. Grant's heart jumped. It must be Miss Sadie and Ginger. He walked toward Miss Sadie's campsite. Blake had insisted that no one try to move into that spot. Miss Sadie would have had a conniption fit if anyone had dared.

Feeling more light-hearted and relieved than he had in days, he walked toward the wagon. As he drew close, he realized Ginger wasn't in the wagon. Miss Sadie reined in the oxen and nodded grimly to Grant as he offered her assistance down from the wagon. “Where is she?” he asked.

“Gone,” Miss Sadie said flatly.

“What do you mean, gone?”

She shook her head wearily. “It's not her fault. Web didn't give her much of a choice. They rode out during the night.”

“Web just left Buddy?”

“It appears so.” She jerked her thumb toward the man in the wagon. “This is Yuley. He gave his heart to Christ and refused to be an outlaw anymore.” She leaned in close and dropped her voice. “In many ways, he's a lot like Alfie, if you get my meaning.”

Grant nodded.

A glad cry lifted to Grant's ears, and he turned to see Amanda Kane running toward them. “Charles!” she called. “Thank God. Oh, thank God you're all right.”

He slowly climbed down from the wagon seat, rail thin and visibly weak, and Amanda fell into his arms. “It's all gone,” he said. “I'm so sorry. Everything is gone.”

Amanda pulled back. “What do you mean?”

“All the money. Everything. I was a fool, Amanda. I thought I was doing the right thing…providing for you and my children. I told Web about the money in the false wagon bottom. He took it. Every last penny.”

“I'm so sorry, Charles,” Amanda pulled him back into her arms. “It's all right. You started with nothing and built yourself a savings. You'll do it again. With God's help, you'll do it, but even if you don't, we'll start off the same as our friends here. Land, seeds, hard work. We'll make it just fine.”

Mr. Harrison palmed her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You're right, my dear. You're so right. We have so much to be grateful for. We're all still alive.”

Amanda put her hand on his and offered a soft smile. “Let's go see the children. They've been worried.”

Mr. Harrison hung back for a second. “Amanda, I want you to meet Yuley. He'll be staying with me for a while.”

The young man turned a shade of red Grant hadn't seen before, and he grinned, ducking a little but keeping his eyes upward on Amanda's pretty face. “Pleased to meet ya, ma'am.”

Amanda walked to the back of the wagon and offered her hand. Yuley wiped his palm on his filthy trousers and then clasped her hand.

“Would you like to come meet Mr. Harrison's children?”

“I'd be pleased to.”

Grant watched them go then turned back to Miss Sadie. “I take it Charles was sick?”

“Nearly didn't make it.” She scrutinized him. “Looks like you took down with it, too.”

“For a couple of days. I'm much better, though.”

“Charles was the sickest I've seen anyone that didn't die. I thought for sure he was going to meet his maker. So did he.” She shook her head, and her eyes narrowed. “That's why he lost his money. He trusted Web. When he thought he would die within the day, Charles confided in that varmint where the money was and that he wanted it given to Amanda and his children. Ginger told me Web was all too eager.”

“You say Ginger didn't want to go with them?”

“Of course she didn't.” Miss Sadie stared at him. “She's a new person, Grant. She'll make a fine Christian woman. I heard Web telling her they were going to California to rob some rich man of his gold mine.”

“Then I'm going after them.”

“You can't go alone. There are at least nine men, and they're all counting on Ginger's help to do this other robbery in California. They're not going to let her go without a fight.”

“What's Ginger supposed to do…hold their horses for them while they rob a bank?”

Miss Sadie shook her head. “She's supposed to get married.”

 

With each passing mile, Ginger felt her hope slipping away. She'd escape. No doubt about it, but the way Web and Lane were watching her like a couple of buzzards circling a wounded cub, it wasn't going to be an easy feat. Her best bet was to wait until they were asleep and sneak off then.

Web kept hunching over, and judging from his pale face and trembling hands, Ginger knew the pain in his body was something fierce. She noticed Lane eyeing him from time to time and wondered if he realized the same thing. Maybe she'd misjudged Lane somewhat. He did seem to be keeping a close eye on Web.

Nudging her horse forward, she rode side by side with Lane. “Web's in pain. Maybe we ought to stop for a while.”

Lane looked at her askance and frowned. “We ain't stoppin' 'til dark.” He glanced at the sky. “That won't be for two more hours.”

“But what about Web?”

Lane shrugged. “If he slows us down, we'll get rid of him.” He peered closer. “Don't tell me you've suddenly gone and got some daughterly love for the old man.”

Ignoring the question, Ginger tried another tactic. “Why push so hard? Do you honestly think anyone's coming after us?”

“I ain't takin' any chances.”

Ginger wanted to believe someone would follow. But knowing Blake, he wouldn't spare any more days off the trail. Not for one man's moneybag. But what about Grant? She hadn't allowed herself to think about it. Would he come for her? Did he really think she was worth risking his neck for?

Not that she needed Grant or anyone else saving her. She would be taking care of that herself, as soon as the snoring began from under the tents.

Glowering at Lane, Ginger reined in a little and waited for Web to catch up. “You're feeling pretty rough, huh?”

He nodded, as though speaking would require too much effort. “I tried to get Lane to stop, but he thought we should keep going. You might want to call a stop. You're still the boss around here, aren't you?”

A fierce frown plunged between his eyebrows. “You implying I ain't?”

“I'm not implying anything, but it's pretty clear that Lane thinks he's in charge. And the men are following him, Web.”

A cloud of suspicion darkened his eyes as he glanced around the motley group of riders. “Okay, everyone stop right now.”

His words, loud and with more authority than she'd heard from him in quite some time, rang in the air and left no doubt that everyone had best do as he said. The fact that his pistol was also drawn reinforced that authority.

Lane pulled his mount to a halt and the rest of the men
followed suit. The subtle act of following the leader wasn't lost on Ginger. Lane reached for his pistol.

“I wouldn't,” Ginger said, her voice thick with warning. She might not take the same pleasure in shooting him that she had once thought she might, but she wouldn't let him shoot Web, either.

He slowly moved his hand back to the reins. “What is this?”

“Any of you confused about who leads this outfit?”

Lane's face split into a cajoling smile. “Now, Web. What kinda question is that? Ya know you're the leader around here. Where would we be without Web?” He posed the question to the group. Tension spilled into the air, thick as molasses in winter. “Web, you ain't lookin' so good. You want to stop for a while?”

The challenge in Lane's voice was unmistakable, but apparently Web was in so much pain he didn't notice.

The men watched for any sign of weakness. Ginger spoke up before Web could accept Lane's suggestion. “Web's fine. He's as strong as any of you and can outride and outshoot any of you on a bad day.”

Web straightened and threw his shoulders back. “That's right. Anyone doubtin' that?” Finally, he understood what Lane was trying to do. “Now we been ridin' together for a long time. Have I ever let you down?”

No one spoke. As far as outlaw leaders, Web was the best. No one could deny that. This robbery in California would be the first time he'd truly given the men a reason to doubt him. And if he wasn't so close to dying, he probably wouldn't have made that mistake. He would have paid someone to verify the letters.

“That's what I thought,” Web said. “Now, let's get movin'.”

Web's face clenched suddenly, and his body tensed. He let out a roar of pain just before he lost consciousness and fell from his horse, crashing to the ground.

“Pa!” The word sounded foreign as it flew from Ginger's mouth, but it was the first thing she thought of. She dismounted and ran to him, kneeling next to him. “What's wrong, Web?”

“Looks like I'm not goin' to make it to California, after all.”

“It's okay. I'll get you back to the wagon train. Grant will take care of you.”

To Ginger's surprise, he nodded. Web might not be the best pa, but he was the only one she had. If there was a chance he might soften up in his last days of life and realize his need for God, then she wasn't going to let the chance slip away.

“Hold on.” Lane's boots made short work of the distance between his horse and where Web lay on the ground. “Web's free to go wherever he pleases, but you are comin' with us. We need you to meet that fellow in California. Besides,” he sent her a leering grin and his gaze covered her curves. Ginger shuddered. “Did you forget Web's promise?”

“Forget it, Lane. I'm not going to California, and I'm not marrying you.”

Before she knew what was happened, her hair felt like he was ripping it from her head as he gripped her braid and yanked her to her feet. He pulled her against him and spoke close to her ear. “You're gonna stop saying that, do you understand?”

“Let her go!” Web's weak voice shot from the ground.

Lane gave him a hard kick that brought tears to Ginger's eyes. “Shut up, old man.”

“Lane, you don't have to hurt him. He's been good to you.”

“This ain't the way we discussed this,” Ames said. He rode forward. “Let go of Ginger. There's no need to hurt her. She'll cooperate without it.” His eyes seemed to plead with her not to push the matter.

Surprisingly, Lane listened and unclenched her hair from his fist. She stumbled forward, sending Ames a grateful half-smile.

Ames had a loyalty to her since she'd come to help Miss Sadie nurse the men. She glanced about the group and noted some with hesitance in their eyes. All of the men who had been sick and a couple of the others.

Lane sneered down at Web. “Can you get back in the saddle, old man?”

Ginger knew if he didn't, Lane would leave him to die alone. She knelt next to Web. “I'll help you. If you can't sit alone, you can share my horse and hold on to me.”

Web's eyes showed surprise, then a mist appeared. “I'd be obliged.”

Ignoring the men, Ginger struggled to help Web to his feet. His bulk nearly knocked her off. “Can you get on the horse after me?”

“I'll try,” he gasped.

Ames dismounted and stepped up next to them. “Let me help.”

Ginger nodded and climbed onto her horse's back. She held the mount steady while Ames helped Web. He grabbed hold of her as though she was a lifeline, and Ginger realized just how sick Web really was. Would her pa even make it through the night?

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